On a rainy day, mist rises through the trees and the last colors of fall bloom
beside the roadway.  Everything in the forest smells of moisture, and the
sound of water dripping, rushing, falling is everywhere.
 

Their leaves gone, the exposed branches of deciduous trees
reveal not bareness but a covering of mosses.  Few trees here are
truly bare in winter; most have coverings of pale moss, lush bright
carpet-like moss or even ferns sprouting from their branches.
 

Tiny mosses that dry almost into obscurity during the summer months rapidly
return to vivid green life once the rains arrive.
 

Through this stand of trees a small stream rushes, pouring
rainwater into the creek below.  At right is some sort of tank;
I have no idea what it might be for.
 

Stream running through the area in the picture above.  Ferns are everywhere.

In a clearing near a mountain's peak, fog spreads itself across the scene,
hiding the surrounding steep drops and bringing a penetrating quiet.